Clipets
by littlebluepanda
Summary: Just little pieces that I've writen, none of which have any connection between them all. The first one will be the Death of Voldermort, one of my favorite ones. Enjoy and please review!


"Get down!" Harry bellowed.

Ron threw himself to the floor and skidded as the curse shot past him, leaving scorch marks on the floor.

"Crap." He muttered.

Harry's own curse was quick to retaliate and there was a muffled yell and a bang as the person hit their head on the Hufflepuff table on their way to the hard stone floor.

Harry watched Ron carefully raise himself up and catch his eye. At Harry's subtle nod, he jumped up fully and darted to a quivering figure near the main doors.

All seven of their attackers now lay either dead or severely stunned in Hogwarts great hall. Around him, various members of the DA were creeping up, some holding newly acquired war wounds, some supporting others.

"Harry!" Ron yelled.

He looked around, trying to find him in the throng. He ran to his side.

"Oh shit."

In his shaking arms lay Hermione. Several blows had hit her straight on, judging from the marks on her now burnt robes. Her Head Girl badge was seared and the delicate necklace had been shattered, leaving only traces of the Sapphire stone and Diamonds surrounding it.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, letting his wand clatter beside him and taking her hand.

No response. Her deep chocolate coloured eyes were closed and her chest was barely rising.

Harry swore again as he noticed the heavily bleeding gash on her chest. The gouge was large, like the wound she had received more than two years ago.

"Is she going to die?" Ron said thickly, and Harry looked up at him. Tears were building in his fearful eyes. Something clicked.

"You love her don't you?"

Ron closed his eyes then slowly shook his head. Then he sighed and looked up at Harry, the tears welling in his eyes threatening to blow over at any point.

"Harry…. She just… I don't know-"

"It's alright." Harry rushed him, feeling Hermione's pulse beneath his finger s weaken.

"We need to get her help." He added, indicating.

"Yeah." Ron wiped his eyes, sniffed then stood. "I'll take her to the hospital wing."

Harry rose beside his best friend, lifting Hermione's lifeless body with him.

Taking her, Ron started to walk out of the hall, following the stream of mumbling people. Watching them leave, Harry considered what had happened. So many people had been knocked down before he had been able to do what he'd always thought of using: Pulling out of his wand and yelling for people to move, he screamed out down the aisle; "Advada Kedava!"

The image of the Death Eaters eyes widening as he fell disturbed Harry. He physically closed his own eyes now, trying to block it out, desperate to escape the image, reminding him too much of his parents. Did that make him as bad as Voldermort?

No, a voice argued back. Voldemort has killed far too many, for far too long, for one revengeful and protective death to equal it.

Suddenly, all the doors slammed closed and the candles went out as if in an abrupt flurry of wind. Sitting very still, Harry realized he was the only one alone in the darkness of the hall.

Then, rising, he muttered, "Lumos."

A snake like face appeared directly in front of his.

"Boo." Whispered Lord Voldermort.

Thrown backwards, Harry felt the breath knocked out of him as he hit the hard oak doors. Voldermort advanced towards him, enchanting the candles to burn as he came. A smirk played of his lip less mouth.

"Hello Potter," He hissed.

Jumping up, Harry felt around for his wand. He wasn't in his pockets.

Voldermort laughed and twiddled something in his other hand.

"Looking for this, Potter?"

Trying not to reveal the panic which swiftly occurred with him, realizing he was defenceless in the presence of one of the most infamous of Wizards in all of history, he tried to think straight. There must be a way.

Then he realized.

Closing his eyes he focused, blocking out Voldermort's taunts and malevolent laughter. Then he finally broke through.

He was looking out of slit shaped eyes at the form of a dark haired young man. His head was bowed and many cuts seemed to cover his body and his Head Boy badge was smeared with soot.

Realizing how little time and control he'd have over the demon he had gained bodily power over, he had to work swiftly. Throwing the wand at his own feet he could feel Voldermort fighting back. His scar began to blaze and he released the fire he'd been holding onto.

Returning to his own body, he ignored the nausea and threw the first spell that came to his mind; "Flipendo!"

The beast was thrown to the end of the hall and Harry finally comprehended the equality of which the prophesy had spoken. As Voldermort staggered upright, glaring through his daemon red eyes at the teen, Harry wondered in what form it would be he would be seeing his parents so very soon.

"You stupid boy." Voldermort hissed, a thin trail of blood dripped down his face.

Then he lunged, and Harry was once more thrown backwards. His head hit the middle of the door with a sickening crack and he slithered down it. Raising a shaking hand to the back of his head as he lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, Voldemort laughed again.

"Get up, Potter."

He brought his hand back around to his face. Blood. His hand was smeared with the deep red liquid. Gasping, he steadied himself before rising to face Voldermort, his wand surprisingly steady.

He paused only momentarily before sending a well placed Lupendo curse directly where the creature's heart would be, if he had one. But Voldermort did exactly as Harry had thought, and vanished.

"Behind you Potter."

Harry spun around, and as he did, he felt something pierce his middle back. Falling to his knees, he turned taxingly around to face his attacker. Voldermort leered down at him, a blooded sword in his long fingered hand.

"I told you I was behind you."

Harry fell, his vision blurred, to the floor. Thoughts of his mother, of Sirius, of his father, fluttered through his mind as Voldermort laughed. So this is what it was like to die… It didn't hurt as badly, and even the searing pain was easing as his vision slowly clouded….

_What am I doing?_

Looking up at Voldermort, he realized he was starring down at Harry, unmoving. He was creating these thoughts….

As the realization hit, so did the intense pain. It was like a never ending chasm of pain, recurring worse and worse with every passing second. Biting his lip, hard as possible, he resisted the up most temptation to scream. But no sound past his lips, and he glared up at the monster, afraid of only one thing: Not accepting his revenge.

Gathering all his courage, he started to stand, taking happiness in the fear that starred him back, revolving from Voldermort's eyes. Taking deep, calming breaths, he ignored the fatal wound in his back and concentrated all his energies into one thing:

His wand.

Jumping back, he raised it upwards. Voldermort met his challenge, and Harry focused every thing he had, all his soul, into his wand. It was this soul and this driving force which caused him to bow, which allowed him to raise his wand, and helped him bellow

"Advada Kedava!" just as his opponent did.

"No!" Screamed Voldermort.

He jerked his wand away from the beam that was already connecting them, but Harry, his face etched in concentration, pulled it back into place.

"Yes." He hissed.

As soon as the shinning ball appeared, exactly as Harry had been planning, he threw all his might into forcing it to connect. A plan was already forming in his mind….

It joined.

Another scream from the devil.

Instantly, image of previous spells began to show themselves. A slight hint of surprise rippled through Harry as he saw that no one had been murdered since-

"Harry."

Cedric Diggory smiled in his ghostly form and made his way around the levitating circle that had formed.

"Cedric." Even though he'd been expecting it, shock was still evident in his tone.

"You'll be alright, Harry." It smiled again. "Just don't give in."

Another form blossomed, and Voldermort, his face contacting with fear now, screamed again.

"Don't let go, Harry!" Cried Bertha Jonkins. "Don't let him win!"

He nodded, shaking, and barely the blood he knew was still falling fiercely from the wound.

"You again?" Frank growled as he was admitted from the now heavily vibrating wand. "Well… Keep it up, boy. Killed me, that one did…"

Now feeling the butterflies in his stomach, he waited patiently for who he needed.

And she came…

Falling gracefully only to rise again, Lily Potter shook back her long deep red curls and watched her son with a delicate, sad smile. Then she was beside him.

"I know you know Harry." She whispered. He closed his eyes and let him absorb her voice. "Just don't let him win. We will help. Your father is coming… And he's bringing someone else…"

Sure enough, as Harry opened his eyes, James Potter arose from his murderer's wand. With him was-

"Sirius." Harry whispered.

The two friends made their way over to him, their faces carefully controlled. Looking past their ghostly forms, Harry could see Voldermort'e barely controlled through his horror. More victims appeared, but Harry was unfocused on them.

"Harry." Sirius murmured. Sadness and worry filled his eyes.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Harry whispered, feeling the full brunt of his loss once more. His arms began to shake uncontrollably.

"Careful." Said his father, and laid a hand on his son's, steadying it.

"Harry…" Sirius seemed unable to speak. The grey shadow like figure cleared his throat and leaned in so only Harry could hear him. "I love you. You must know that. You are like the son I never had and the best friend I lost all at once. But I'm here now. Leave me be, and help Remus. Please don't mourn me. I don't deserve it. Just keep safe."

"But-" He tried to interrupt. There was so much he needed to say. So much time they had lost and needed to make up. But James interrupted him.

"Harry there isn't much time. I know what you are planning. We will help you all we can. But in the end it'll be you."

"I know." Harry whispered. He couldn't hold on much longer.

"You're bleeding." Lily said suddenly, pointing at his chest. He looked down. That was when he first realized the density of his wound. The sword had gone all the way through his body. He swayed slightly, only to have a pair of strong hands grab him and hold him up. Looking around, he realized it was Sirius.

"Are you ready?" Lily whispered.

No, he wanted to yell. No.

But he couldn't. He had to do this. He had to. No questions asked, no debate. This was his only chance. The world was on his shoulders once again.

First he turned to Sirius.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

His godfather's smoky face contorted into a frown.

"For what?"

"For saving the world again."

Then he jerked his wand upwards.

Falling to the floor, it was as if the world around him went into slow motion. Voldemrort had fallen as well, and was still on all fours as Harry ran towards him, wand raised, yelling, "Accio Sword!"

Within an instant, the ruby hilted blade he had killed the great serpent with in his second year was in his hands. He swung it back with all his strength as his mother, father and guardian held the daemon down.

"NO!" He screamed.

Harry hit him directly where he heart would have been.

A howl echoed around the hall as the metal blade hit the stone beneath and was, with a sickening sound, wrenched back out.

The creature looked down at the blood splattered robes, then up at his murdered victims, glaring down at him, then finally at Harry himself. He was standing, bloodied sword in hand, looking down at his work. Passion, anger, triumph were in his gaze, but there was something else undeniable.

But then Voldermort screamed again, and a brilliant white light seemed to spread out from the wound. His head tipped back, and it encinctured the whole of the great hall. Harry stumbled back, arm over his eyes, and the weapon dropped to the floor. A large gust of wind, a last scream, and it was over.

Falling to his knees, Harry finally pulled his arm away, expecting to be alone in the hall where a teenage boy had just killed another man. But he wasn't.

Laying where they had once been standing where three figures. His mother, his father and Sirius all lay, unmoving, on the cold stone.

Then Sirius began to laugh.

Harry's now nearly blue lips parted slightly in amazement.

Sirius sat up, and James joined him in laughing. Lily sat up, eyes glinting, a small smile on her delicate mouth.

"Harry!" She cried, and stumbled to him, quickly followed by her husband and his best friend. He fell backwards as they reached him, kneeling beside the boy that had just become a man.

"I'm sorry." He whispered again.

He breathing was becoming irrational, and his face was pale and clammy. His pupils were starting to dilate.

"Oh, God, Harry, for what?" His mother said gently, taking his hand.

"For being the hero." He turned to his father. "Welcome back."

James smiled and kneeled on his other side, leaving only Sirius standing. His eyes were wide and panic was etched deeply within them. He stayed motionless, gazing at the scene. James glanced up at him as he took his sons other hand.

"Pad." He whispered, and raised an eyebrow.

Sirius hesitated before kneeling also, by Harry's head. A small smile reached the boys lips. Sirius managed to smile back.

"You owe me a Butterbeer." Harry said hoarsely.

Sirius laughed.

"I'll buy you a Fire Whiskey next time your mothers not looking."

"That's settled then." He nodded lightly, then his face contracted in pain, and he bit his lip, holding in a scream.

Then he features softened.

"Harry?" Lily whispered.

"Hmm?" He murmured in reply.

"I love you."

"I love you too… Mum."

Three weeks later, Harry woke up.

Beside him was the sleeping form of Hermione, her head drooped downwards into a book. She was breathing softly, her fringe blowing upwards with every outwards breath. Next to her was Ron. A patch covered his left eye, and his hand was resting on Hermione's. As usual, deep rumbling snores were admitted on a regular basis. Harry smiled lightly and wondered if that was what had woken him.

That was when he remembered what had happened.

Image of Voldermort, his parents, the duel shot before his eyes, and the pain of the gash hit him once again. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

"Harry?"

He looked up.

At the end of his bed, a warm smile on her lips, was his mother. Her smile quickly spread into a grin, and she was at his side in seconds, hugging him tightly, and crying onto his bandaged back, telling him that she though she's never see him again, and why did he take so long waking up?

His father rescued him from her grasp. He pulled her off, and she burst into a fresh wave of tears on his shoulder. He rolled his eyes to his son and placed an arm around her waist.

"Alright, son?" He winked, eyes glinting merrily.

Harry nodded mutely, still mysterified. Then he realized. Opening his mouth, James interrupted him before he could speak.

"He's over there." His father indicated to a chair in the shadows Harry hadn't noticed before. Now, however, he could see a figure resting gently, a book in his lap. Harry smiled.

"Sirius?" He murmured hoarsely.

He got no response.

James snorted.

"You need to try harder than that, lad." He grinned evilly. "OI!"

Sirius jumped, and looked around in panic, causing James to snort happily.

"Git." Sirius muttered, then saw his Godson. "Harry!" He was by his side in a

second, and his book fell to the floor with a clatter, causing Ron to stir but not wake.

"How are you?" Lily asked wetly

"I'll be okay. I just need some time."

"Right!" She shook her hair back and turned to face the boys, smouldering. "You heard him. Time. Now get!" She pointed out the door.

"I didn't mean-" Harry began.

"Don't bother, son." James rolled his eyes. "She's off."

"I said get!" Lily hissed warningly, then smiled once more at her son before following them out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind them, and leaving Harry alone apart from the snoring figure of Ron and the silent figure of Hermione.

He looked out of the window and smiled. Day was just beginning to break, and sunlight was starting to creep onto the Hogwarts castle grounds.

The prophesy had been fulfilled. Everything that he had dreamed about was true. Now, here he was, with parents, alive, and with Sirius back. True, he didn't yet know the extent of any other damage that had been caused, but Voldermort was gone.

Voldermort was gone…

This constant evil shadow had been expelled by the light of good once more.

And Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, finally could.


End file.
